Shiver
by Genevieve Darcy Granger
Summary: You and Negan exchange gifts on Christmas, and luckily your gift is for him as much as it is for you.


Curled up by the window seat in the parlor, you rearranged the quilt in her lap, tucking it underneath your thighs so that the chill seeping through the cracked window panes doesn't penetrate through the quilt to you. Satisfied, you picked up your worn copy of _A Christmas Carol_ again, but inevitably your gaze was drawn out the window. There was a surprisingly thick blanket of Virginia snow outside, and the Sanctuary was saturated with Christmas spirit. You were no exception to the rule.

Over the past week, your husband Negan had been divvying up his time between the other five wives and you to individually celebrate the holiday cheer. You thought it was a pretty good idea because for the most part you all had different traditions. Amber, for example, was unfamiliar with Christmas movies like the stop-motion _Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer_ TV special or _The Year Without a Santa Claus_. She didn't even care for the _Charlie Brown_ one either. Instead, Amber liked Hallmark movies, and Negan indulged her, even with a few of the sappy Christian ones. You thought the movies were a little too corny, and after you recognized one of the actresses to be Gretchen Wieners from _Mean Girls_ , you opted out of their movie marathons.

Sherry was pretty much a Grinch about Christmas, so she used her time with Negan as fuck fest rather than for any of the softer emotions that the season usually inspired in others. You could hardly blame her. Sometimes all the red and green everywhere made you nauseous. Besides, at the end of the world, Sherry didn't put much stock in faith anymore.

Frankie was Jewish, so she spent her day with Negan teaching him about her traditions. They actually did a lot of baking together, especially some kind of cinnamon pastry that was sticky. You were glad when they shared the treat.

He went outside with Tanya and built a few snowmen. From your position at the window, you saw that their snowmen were still standing. Afterwards, they got spiked hot chocolate together and kissed under the mistletoe. It was real innocent stuff.

For Michaela, they spent the day sequestered in Negan's bed, but from the sound of it, they didn't sleep together. Negan was always especially loud in the sack, so you doubted that they were doing anything too rigorous in there. They mostly listened to old records like by Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra. Below the sound of the music, you could hear them quietly murmuring, just talking. You were glad Negan was getting the chance to relax.

Today, you were patiently waiting for your turn. You had expected to be woken up by Negan this morning, but unfortunately, he was called away on Savior business because one of the outposts had a flu outbreak. Negan went with the team to go get the medicine for them, so you planted yourself by the window, waiting for him to come back.

Unlike the others, you didn't really have any holiday traditions – at least, none that you felt comfortable sharing with Negan. Even though he was your husband now, he could never replace the family you had from before, just like you knew you could never replace his old life either. So, you decided that you just wanted to sleep with him whenever he gets back. You didn't want to get caught up in any sappy emotions. In a lot of ways, you were similar to Sherry.

Still, you couldn't be completely unaffected by Christmas cheer. Each day Negan spent with the other wives, you saw that they had exchanged gifts. Amber got a pretty butterfly hair clip and every time you saw her now it was shining in her hair. You were pretty sure that Amber hadn't gotten Negan a gift, except for a blowjob. Sherry indulged Negan in anal for a bottle of merlot. Frankie gave Negan a massage; Negan got her a new dress since she started packing on weight being a wife now, and eating well. Tanya was the only one made a thoughtful gift for Negan: a beanie. He'd definitely worn it around, not complaining about the sloppy stitch work. In return, he got Tanya a new bottle of red hair dye.

You got him a material gift as well, though you didn't make it by hand. It was something the two of you could share, – well, really, a selfish kind of gift – and you couldn't wait to try it with him. It was something new, something you hadn't tried together yet, but you had discussed it before with him. Really, you hoped he would like it as much as you, because just thinking about the gift was already getting you a bit wet under your quilt.

Unable to resist, you slipped your hand under the quilt, pushing up the already short hemline of your black dress so you could reach your exposed cunt. In preparation for today, you had forgone any panties, and though there was a chill in the air it gave you a thrill to walk around like this. The other wives were used to this from you, and you had slept with at least two of them in addition to Negan. They enjoyed the show you put on dressed like this just as much as your husband.

The tops of your thighs were already damp with evidence of your arousal as you walked your fingertips up the inside of your legs. Tracing over the outside of your slightly puffy lips, your other hand folded the book face down on your quilt covered lap to hide the bulge from your hand. You cut a path through your wet labia, combing over your pubic hair, and your head reclined against the window, cheek pressed against the glass. It was blessedly cool to the touch, and the blush on your face fought to rise against it. Using your index and middle finger, you swirled around your engorged clit and dipped lower, just inside your entrance. With the extra lubricant, you dragged your fingertips back up clit and barely brushed over it. In response, you let out a moan, and your breath fogged on the window.

You continued playing with yourself, knowing you were visible from the window and in a lewd position, but that only sent a thrill through you. If people were to count how high up you were and know approximately where the parlor is, they'd have an idea of what you were doing – and you didn't care. More than anything, you wanted people to know. Well, maybe not people. You didn't mind being an exhibitionist with people you trusted. Mainly, you just wanted Negan to know and see you like this when he arrives. Maybe that will spur his steps to be a little faster to get to you.

Finally, you stopped teasing yourself and slipped two fingers inside your wet, tight channel. The heat rolling off your pussy was so intense compared to the chill of the room that it felt like your hand was burning, but as you curled your fingers over your g-spot, you couldn't pull your hand away even if you wanted to. You rode your hand hard, and your wrist started to ache, but you didn't let up because you were so close. Your moans were so loud, though, that you didn't even notice when you had the audience you'd been waiting for.

Chasing your release, you pumped your fingers into your pussy faster, and the quilt did little to muffle the sloppy, wet sounds that were so lewd, it could make a porn-star blush. You didn't consider a solo orgasm before your quality time with Negan to be spoiling your appetite. If anything, this masturbation session served as an aperitif. Your orgasm snuck up on you and washed over you like a forest fire in dry brush. Not even bothering for volume control, you stretched your mouth open so wide that your jaw cracked as you squealed your completion, gushing all over your hand and staining the window seat's cushion below your bare ass. Taking a moment to bask in your afterglow, you slumped entirely against the window with a closed-lip smile and a hum, and then slowly cracked your eyes open again against the light.

Of course, who else was standing before you but your husband Negan himself with that devilish smile and lust-blown pupils darkening his hazel eyes. As soon as you made eye-contact, you felt your small aftershocks thrum through your walls, spasming around your fingers. "You just couldn't fucking wait for me, could you, baby?" Negan teased, his pink tongue sensuously dragging across his bottom lip while his eyes sparkled at you with mischief. "Did you already unwrap my present for me?"

Easing your fingers free, you pulled them out from under the quilt and curled them at him in a come-hither motion, showing off your glistening juices threaded between your digits. "No, I just had to get my fingers wet before I could turn the page." With your clean hand, you picked up your tattered, battered copy of _A Christmas Carol_ from your lap and waved them in Negan's direction before dropping it aside.

Chuckling, Negan took two long strides to close the distance between you and curved over your body. At first, you thought he was going for a kiss, so you expectantly – and eagerly – lifted your chin for your mouth to be plundered by his questing tongue. Instead, Negan bypassed your face in favor for your fingers, and he wrapped his lips around them without hesitation, his tongue swirling and licking up every drop as he sucked you clean. When he removed his mouth, it was with a pop, and then he immediately dove for your mouth to share the flavor with you. You devoured him, your recently cleaned fingers firmly pinching his lightly bearded chin to hold him in place.

Finally, when you both pulled away to draw cool, refreshing air into your lungs, Negan hummed, "So, when can I have my present, baby?" His eyes were still closed, savoring your kiss, and he pulled his kiss-swollen bottom lip into his mouth to worry with his teeth and soothe with his tongue.

Your hands danced up his torso from hip bones to shoulders as you climbed to your feet. "Right now," you practically purred, and took him by the hand to lead him to his bedroom. After he had left this morning, you had placed his gift in the center of his bed in preparation. As soon as he saw it, his eyes lit up and he snatched up the box, giving it a playful shake. Watching him with an amused smile, you closed and locked the door behind you. "Well? Go ahead and open it up!"

With a smirk, Negan plopped down at the foot of the bed with the box in his lap. There wasn't any wrapping paper because that was hard to find, so you had resorted to packing his gift away in a small cardboard box. Without much more preamble, Negan dug into the package. Once he saw what it was, a smile spread across his face exactly like the Grinch's. "Oh, so this is something for you and me, huh?" His long fingers plucked the delicate scraps of red silk and held it up in the air, showing off the sheer bra that mimicked Christmas ribbon.

"You could say that," you giggled, and stalked across the floor to him with the same single-minded determination that you've carried with you all day. "Do you remember," you started, slinging your arms around his neck, "do you remember that conversation we had before about trying new things?"

His mouth still curled into that gentle smile, Negan drawled, "Fucking 'course I do, baby. We talked about a lot of things. Anal. Nipple Clamps. Cock rings. Butt plugs. Some feet stuff." Negan's eyelids went half-lidded as he gazed at you adoringly, trustingly.

Your fingers combed through his hair. "Well, I was thinking, if you wear this little present I got you, then I'll wear it for you later, and we can try something you want to do."

"Hmm, yeah, baby?" Negan's lips barely brushed over yours in a whisper as he said in that low rumble that made your core throb with need, "You promise?"

"I promise." You gave his hair a little tug, encouraging him to close the distance between you two. At the first graze of his lips on yours again, even though you felt heat pool into your gut and a blush race down your neck from cheeks to chest, you got goosebumps and actually shivered. His fingertips traced around your jaw delicately as if you were something precious, and he groaned into your mouth.

When Negan pulled away, he practically growled at you, "Let me give you your present, baby." He disentangled himself from your arms and slipped around you for the bathroom, clutching the two red scraps of silk.

Eyes following his retreating figure hungrily, you licked your lips and took his place on the bed. Propped up by your palms behind you, you spread your legs in a silent, clear invitation for when he would come back, already feeling some of your juices from earlier trickle down the inside of your thighs towards the sensitive backs of your knees. It was almost ticklish, but it was definitely naughty. Biting your lip in anticipation, you called, "You coming?"

"Oh, just you wait!" Negan called back, voice slightly muffled behind the wooden door. "You're gonna be coming when you get a load of me!"

"That's exactly what I want, Negan," you snickered softly, "I want all your loads today, baby. Santa may only come once a year, but I want to have all of you today. No sharing."

Negan didn't have a reply, too busy struggling with his clothes, you imagined, since all you could hear from him were muted curses and stumbling around. When there was silence, you started to get worried.

"Negan? Everything all right in there? Or do you need a helping hand from me?"

"No, I got it!" Negan sounded thoughtful. "It's just… you sure you want all of this?" There was a note of vulnerability in his voice that you had never heard from him before. Seeming to sense his mistake, Negan quickly added in a tone that dripped with cockiness, "I don't think you're ready for this, baby. I may be just too fucking much for you."

"Come on, baby," you simpered in not-quite-a-beg, "lemme see you."

"Hmm, I'm not so fucking sure about this, baby. It's fucking obscene."

Tilting your head, you asked, "Isn't obscenity right up your alley, though?"

At first, he hesitated to answer, and you heard the water running. Then you had to strain your ears to hear him mumble, "It's like two bowling balls in a marble bag."

You laughed so hard that you collapsed backwards on the bed, clutching your aching stomach. "I still can't believe you watched _Best Little Whorehouse in Texas_ with me." As your giggles died down, you swiped at your eyes where a few happy tears had leaked through. "And actually liked it."

"Who doesn't fucking love Dolly Parton? She's got amazing knockers." You hummed in agreement, and your ears pricked when you heard the slight creak of the bathroom door swinging open, though you weren't sure since you were staring at the ceiling: a familiar sight. Without the buffer of the bathroom door, Negan's voice came out clear and strong as he added, "Burt Reynolds wasn't so fucking bad lookin' either."

Eagerly pushing yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at Negan, whatever witty retort you might've had died on your lips as soon as you saw him. With the sheer red bra barely covering his erect nipples and his half-hard erection swathed in clingy silk with a growing wet spot, Negan looked exactly like a present. You had to say, you had good taste. Red was definitely Negan's color, and he didn't look ridiculous at all. He looked mouthwatering, with his smattering of his salt-and-pepper chest hair that grew thicker down his soft belly towards his erection. Negan might as well have been naked with how little the red lingerie covered him and with how much it showed off, like a few silver scars from survival and the teasing v of his hips that begged for your tongue to follow the trail to his cock.

"Well, shit, I guess I can't look that fucking bad," Negan chuckled mostly to himself. "You got a little drool right here." He tapped the tip of index finger to his own chin twice, grinning at you wickedly.

Your jaw shut with an audible click of your teeth, and you pushed yourself off the bed quickly, stalking over to him like a predator on the hunt for its prey. "You look delicious," you purred.

"You're not so bad yourself," Negan hummed, though you could see that he wasn't expecting quite so strong of a reaction from you. "Pretty easy on the eyes, right now, but let's strip you down, huh?" He reached for your dress, but you caught him by the wrists and held him back.

"Not so fast." You stepped back out of reach, your eyes dragging up and down his body as heavily as a groping hand. "I want to see you."

"You can see me," he argued, but you shook your head.

Dropping his hands, you reached out your own hands reverently and ghosted your palms over his sides, just hovering, not touching. "No, I wanna really see you." You licked your lips. "I wanna take my time with you. Let me take the lead so I can worship your body, baby."

You finally settled with your hands on his hips, and you tugged him forward towards the bed, spinning your bodies around so that you could gently push him back on the mattress. Once the back of his knees hit the mattress, he collapsed, and you eagerly climbed on his lap, sitting on his thighs. "Fucking, look at you. You're fucking gorgeous. I could eat you up."

Dragging your nails up his chest, you raked them over his nipples, teasing them through the silk bra. Underneath you, Negan groaned, and you felt the vibrations travelling through your body, making you go as tense as a tuning fork. His eyes slipped shut, and you saw a flash of white as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He tried to grab your hips to pull you over his cock, his large hands slipping over the outside of your thighs under the short hemline of your black dress. Catching on to what he was doing, you caught him by the wrists again and pinned his hands above his head with one hand. "Let me have control, baby," you chided and coaxed him, "Come on."

Opening his eyes to only slits, Negan stared up at you with something like vulnerability, almost too close to fear, though, for you to be comfortable.

"What's wrong, Negan?" You pulled your hands away and sat upright, giving him room to breathe. Suddenly, it clicked for you, and you immediately sought to soothe his hurt. "Don't be embarrassed, honey, I'm serious. Anyone looks fucking hot in red lingerie." You lowered your body again, pressing kisses into his hidden dimples, trying to get them to show. "It's not true what they say about clothes making the man. You could make a cardboard box, or a fig leaf, or a burlap sack look sexy."

Turning his face towards you, he caught your next kiss on his mouth and opened up under you like a flower drinking up the rain. You chased his tongue into his mouth for a taste, and he groaned again, sensuously, hedonistically enjoying all this sweet attention being lavished on him. Pulling away, you asked, "Better now?"

"Yeah, darlin'," he murmured to you thickly, "You know I just need my ego stroked by you every once in a while." In a submissive gesture that sent a thrill through your body, Negan bared his neck to you, and you didn't hesitate to latch on and suck some hickeys of ownership into his skin.

When you pulled away to admire your handiwork, you snuck your hand in between your bodies and down Negan's squirming hips. "I can think of something else I can stroke for you." The tips of your fingers traced over the outline of his hard cock underneath the panties, your touch as light as a feather. Negan lets out a whine, and you smiled as you fisted his cock through the panties, denying him that skin on skin contact in favor for the sinful decadence of silk on a place so lewd and private. Through the thin layer you could feel his body heat, and you fisted him slowly, dragging the silk along his throbbing length.

"Mmm fuck," he whimpered, "Baby, please." This time, he didn't grab at you. Instead, his hands remained by his sides where he fisted the blankets into a wad.

"Please what, Negan?" You teased, tracing the tip of your nose up and down his strong jaw that rhythmically flexed as he grinded his teeth together. "Use your words like a big boy and tell me what you want, Negan. Tell me what you need."

"Give me more," he twisted around, trying to catch your mouth again for another kiss, and he bucked his hips into your hand, trying in vain to fuck your fist through the panties. "Harder, baby."

Rather than immediately acquiescing to his demands, you slipped your other hand down to tease his balls through the silk fabric, too. You hovered your mouth above his, just out of reach, and watched his face crumple in frustrated pleasure. His hot breath panted across your face, damp against your skin, and his breath was minty fresh from his toothpaste. It made you smirk at his thoughtfulness, and you couldn't resist brushing the tip of your nose against his with a happy hum while he grunted in need. Bent over him like you were, with each breath he drew into his lungs, his chest rose high enough to brush against yours, creating a delicious friction against his silk-covered nipples.

Above him, still in your dress, you basked in all your power and in giving him his pleasure on your terms. Underneath as he was, Negan was achingly beautiful, and it made you so wet.

"Baby, baby, I'm gonna come," he confessed with a broken gasp. It was rare to catch Negan in moments like this when normally everyone else saw a man so in control. Even when you two were together in these intimate moments, he was insistent on you getting yours first. This time, though, you wanted him to be a little selfish.

Pumping your hand up and down his length – still on the outside of the fabric – you tucked your mouth close to his ear to whisper, "Merry Christmas, baby." He came with a breathless grunt with your teeth nibbling on his earlobe. You didn't stop squeezing him until you could feel his come soak through the fabric and he whispered for you to stop.

When you pulled your hands away, you sat up again so you could see him in full. His eyes were glazed over, mouth kiss-swollen. Neither of you were even fully naked yet, and he looked thoroughly fucked and ten times sexier than before. There was a fine sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, and all his head tossing had ruffled his normally immaculate hair. Running your fingers through the inky black locks, you purred, "You look so fucking sexy."

Chuckling, Negan weakly lifted his hands to his face to interlock your fingers with his. "So, you've fucking said. Multiple times actually." Giving you that debauched grin, he added, "Just today alone, too."

"Well, I mean it every time I say it." You brought his hands to your mouth and kissed both palms and the insides of both wrists. "Are you complaining?"

"Never."

"Good."

Tugging at his arms, you encouraged him to sit up, and his mouth met yours for another kiss. This kiss was slow, serving to build up the heat again steadily between you two. You allowed him to unzip your black dress, and you eagerly stripped it away for more skin to skin contact. As soon as you were naked, you closed the distance between the two of you again and once more pushed him flat down onto the mattress.

Unable to resist anymore, your hands went to his nipples, flicking them through the fabric. Pushing his chest into your hands, Negan growled, "Are you ever gonna unwrap your fucking present, baby?" You silence him with your mouth covering one nipple, mouth open wide to alternate between sucking hard and swirling your tongue around them. Negan's hand scrabbled between your hair and your shoulders, encouraging you with small noises leaking between his lips that he tried to choke back. Switching to the other nipple, you held eye-contact with him as you slowly dragged the tip of your tongue over the erect nipple. Negan only broke eye-contact when he saw your teeth flash as the only warning before you carefully worried his nipples with your teeth, masterfully applying just enough pressure to give some pain to his pleasure.

Your own lust was so ramped up that you couldn't resist anymore. Lowering yourself down over him, you dragged your dripping pussy over his cloth erection, smearing your juices on his ruined silk panties and rubbing in his own come into his half-hard erection. There were wet squishing noises as your juices mixed together, and you humped him, stimulating your clit while he thrust against you, too, with whines just on the other side of being pathetic.

"Baby," Negan wrapped his fingers in your hair the best he could and tugged until your roots burned. "Baby, please, please let me fuck you."

Pressing your cheek to his chest, you could hear his quick and strong heartbeat strum steadily beneath your ear. When you spoke, you barely blew on his nipples and wet Negan hissed at the sensation. "You think you're gonna be the one fucking me?"

"Nooo," Negan gritted his teeth and threw his head back against the mattress. "Fuck!" He barked in frustration. "Baby, please, let me get my dick inside you. I wanna come inside. I want to feel your hot, tight pussy around my length. Fuck me, baby. Ride me."

You mouth started out in a smug smirk, but it gave way to a smile as you eagerly climbed off his lap and stood between his slightly spread legs at the foot of the bed. Your fingers confidently curled around his panties, and you slowly slid them down his long, long legs. Your combined juices streaked his legs white and his cock sprang up glistening. Twirling his panties around your index finger, you climbed back up his body again, hovering over his erection. You liked it when he begged, and you wanted him to beg you some more.

Negan's fingers went to his chest, fumbling with the front clasp of the bra, but you gently touched his fingers, stilling him. "Leave it on." You dangled the soaked pair of panties over his face. "But this…open your mouth."

Through the fog of his lust-addled brain, Negan was trying to understand. You repeated more firmly, "Open your mouth."

He opened his mouth, and you gently shoved the panties into his mouth. "Suck on that, baby," you grinned and then reached down to grab his throbbing cock. You gave it a few businesslike strokes, needlessly spreading the residue of his sticky come over it as lubricant, and then held it in place as you slid him inside to the hilt in one smooth stroke.

With the tip of his cock nestled against your cervix and your resting on his pubic bone, you paused to allow your walls to adjust to his girth. Your fingernails clawed at his shoulders, and Negan went crossed-eyed and groaned around the panties in his mouth. Taking a deep breath, you lifted yourself up until only the bulbous head of his cock was inside you, and slammed yourself back down on him with a wet slap of his balls bouncing against your ass cheeks.

You started off your rhythm slowly until you were riding him hard into the mattress. To hold on for dear life, Negan's hands roved up and down your thighs, around to squeeze your ass, gripping your hips hard until his fingertips bruised you. Your own hands were planted on his chest, clawing at his bra until you were sure there were going to be red marks from your nails underneath it. Since he was gagged around the panties, all his groans and moans were muffled, but you made up for it by being particularly and unabashedly loud for him. Mostly, it was the sound of skin on skin that echoed off the walls to mix with your wordless moans. If anyone were to walk by, they would know exactly what you were up to, and if they couldn't tell from the noise, then they could certainly tell from the stench of sex that hung heavily in the air.

You could tell that Negan's end was rapidly approaching because he was only getting harder and thicker inside of you. To match him, you tilted your hips so that you could stimulate your clit against his pubic hair, mashing it ruthlessly. Negan started to wildly thrash, and he started to frantically try and spit the panties out, but you covered his mouth with one hand, nearly smothering him in the process. "I know, baby, I know. Keep them there." Deliberately contracting your walls around his pulsing length, you encouraged and outright commanded him, "I want you to come with me, baby, come with me."

In response, Negan spanked your bare ass so hard that heat immediately bloomed under the touch. Immediately, you came and a split second later you could feel Negan come as well as he released inside you. You rode him through it, prolonging both of your orgasms. Your walls clenched, milking him for all he's worth, draining his balls of come. Negan's eyes rolled towards the back of his head as your own vision was whited out as if you were in the middle of the blizzard. But you weren't in a blizzard. You were warm, so warm, and you were safe, and you were happy.

Collapsing down on top of him, you held off rolling to the side in favor of keeping him inside of you until he was completely soft. Everywhere was achy and sticky, but it was worth it. Negan tried to mumble something around the panties, but you couldn't tell what. Barely able to string any words together yourself, you panted back, "Yeah, merry Christmas, baby."


End file.
